An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  “Go on…” Victoria urged.

  “You allow me to come with you, in everything you do. Lady Helena is my betrothed, and I want to be there when you find her. And I possess skills of my own, earned in the military. I can be of use to you, but you must allow me to be.” He thought he saw a flicker of amusement in Victoria’s eyes. Truly, he had never met anyone who could make him feel so vulnerable and unimportant. But it gave him an odd compulsion to win her over; to prove that he was not vulnerable or unimportant.

  The Admiral smiled. “I think that would be entirely acceptable, My Lord. This is an intimate case for you. You have every right to accompany us in our endeavors.”

  “As long as you do not become a nuisance,” Victoria added.

  My goodness, she is an impossible creature! He couldn’t tell if she was being obtuse, or if she was merely teasing him. And that made him uncomfortable… and all the more intrigued by this mystical imp. She cared nothing for propriety, that much was obvious, and perhaps the alteration in company would be educational. Too many people bowed and scraped before him, forgetting that he was human, the same as they.

  “I assure you; I was never a nuisance when I served in the war.” He shot her a pointed look, and she had the decency to lower her gaze.

  “Where did you serve?” the Admiral said.

  “France, primarily.” He tried not to think of those days often, for they regurgitated nothing but bad memories. Bloodshed, thundering artillery, the clash of swords and bayonets, and the terrible percussion of hooves thudding into the battlefield. And the fear gripping his chest as he led the charge, wondering if this would be his last. Some nights, he still heard the screams of animals and soldiers alike, as they were cut down in their prime.

  The Admiral offered a sympathetic smile. “A terrible business. I sailed all over the world with the British Navy, and it never became any easier to enter conflict. Sometimes, when I am lying in my bed, I still hear the boom of cannons and that unique splinter of a ship being torn asunder. The closest comparison I can make is the crack of lightning, but I have never truly heard another sound like it.”

  “It is the same with the battlefield, Admiral. I have heard others compare the roar of cannon fire and the snap of muskets to thunder, but I have never really heard a storm that matches the ferocity I witnessed in those awful years,” Christian replied, a cold sweat creeping up his spine. “And there is no sound more hideous than a horse dying, without knowing what it did to deserve such a painful end. It is almost worse than the screams of men, for at least they knew what they were entering into.”

  Victoria’s face shifted, emoting a sudden sorrow that made Christian’s chest clench in a vise. All of her derisive stares and scornful haughtiness disappeared, leaving a young lady who was attempting to understand the enormity of what England’s warriors had endured.

  “A tragic waste,” she murmured. “I wonder if there will ever be a day when men do not go to war and kill each other for the sake of a distant monarch who will never have to fear being obliterated in so vicious a fashion.”

  “I would like to believe that was possible, but… I have seen enough to suggest otherwise.” Christian sighed, thinking of all the companions and comrades he had lost. Names, once dear to him, now carved into headstones, in kirkyards and graveyards all across this fair nation. They said heroes were never forgotten, but when their families were gone and their great-great-great grandchildren lived where they once had, he knew their memory wouldn’t live on in those generations.

  “Kings used to fight alongside their soldiers.” Victoria folded her arms across her chest, as though she felt a chill. “They used to ride into battle, skilled with sword and shield. When did their lives become more important than everyone else’s?”

  “They are chosen by God.” Christian didn’t think it wise to speak traitorously, or to blaspheme. Even if a small, secret part of him agreed wholeheartedly with her sentiment.

  “We would do well to remember that,” the Admiral added, with a stern look at Victoria. Christian watched the pair, curious in regards to their relationship. He had heard Victoria tell the Duchess that this man had become as a father to her, after her own father had passed. And he truly seemed to adore the young lady.

  I imagine she is easy to adore, once one has made their way past the spiky surface. That sorrowful gaze and her sympathetic words had made him sure of that. But he supposed it was not so simple to coax her to unfurl from her protective defenses. A hedgehog of a woman, who had been forced to prove herself in this world, time and time again. For she could not have had a comfortable path in life, considering the employment she had chosen.

  Had she been born a son, how different things might have been for her. No doubt she knows that. No doubt she feels that. But he thought her altogether remarkable, despite her spells of frostiness.

  “Well, shall we go to find these chaperones?” Victoria’s tone brightened, though it rang false.

  Christian nodded. “Yes, I think that is a rather good idea.”

  The only trouble was, if they had remained silent to the newspapers out of terror of revenge, they may be too petrified to speak, even to the likes of Christian. But someone had to know something. Someone had to have seen something. Someone had to know who these two wretches were… surely?

  At least one may be of our kind… Two days ago, he would not have thought it possible. But now… well, all bets were off. And if a monster lay hidden within his world, infiltrating high society and snatching ladies from their beds, then Christian vowed to take up sword and shield and strike the villain down just as St. George had slain the dragon. Hoping, all the while, that when he saw Helena again, it would not be in the tragic confines of a casket.

  Chapter 7

  Taking Lord Galbury’s carriage, the trio didn’t have to go far before they reached the house of the first young lady who had been taken: Lady Isabella, daughter to the Earl and Countess of Haverstock.

  “Do you know if Lady Isabella has any sisters?” Victoria peered up at the homogenous townhouse, catching a glimpse of a curtain twitch in one of the upper rooms.

  Lord Galbury shook his head. “She is the Haverstocks’ only child.”

  Victoria frowned. “What of the other ladies?” Lady Erin had been the second kidnapping victim, with Lady Jane, Lady Harriet, Lady Felicity, and Lady Helena following after.

  “What do you mean?” Lord Galbury replied.

  “Do they have any sisters?”

  He paused in thought. “No… I do not believe they do. Either they’re sole children or they have brothers. Yes, that’s correct. None of the ladies have any sisters, so far as I am aware.”

  “Then the Ladies are being chosen because they’re the only daughters in the household, as well as being selected for their slight figures.” Victoria’s stomach churned. It sickened her to think of how they had been targeted with such specificity. Whoever had done this had taken their time in making decisions, no doubt observing from a distance, and doing their research.

  “Lady Erin was not so slight,” Lord Galbury said, looking somewhat shamefaced. “She had a… rather more shapely figure. I never met the young lady myself, but it was common knowledge among the gentlemen that she… um… was possessed of a more womanly appearance.”

  “But she was taken while riding in her carriage, no?” Victoria could not help but feel amused by Lord Galbury’s obvious discomfort in discussing the physique of the victims. It gave him a boyish innocence that endeared her toward him.

  Lord Galbury nodded. “Yes, she was.”

  “Then, I suppose it would not have mattered what her figure might have been,” Benedict said. “The cretins must have realized that, to steal girls out in the open, after two successful kidnappings, would invite heavier protective measures. If you will pardon the pun. That must be when they decided to alter their modus operandi.”

  “My goodness. The moment I think this cannot get any worse, more details emerge and, quite frankly, they
appall me.” Lord Galbury paled. “Who would do such a thing, with such attention?”

  “Disturbed men, My Lord.” Victoria put it simply. In her time as an investigator, she had seen the very worst of humankind. Murderers, thieves, lunatics, and depraved deviants, and those were only several of the kinds of people at the top of the deranged list.

  She’d seen her first dead body by the age of five-and-ten, after going with her father to a household in Highgate, where a woman had been brutally strangled. The culprit turned out to be her husband, as many such murders did, but she had never forgotten that eerily-pale face, so beautiful even in death, and the purple lips frozen in a shocked ‘O’. Her blank eyes had stared up with such horror, as though she would have never expected the man she loved to take her life from her.

  Nothing shocked Victoria anymore. Benedict always said that this world had hardened her, and perhaps he was right. But she needed to be tough, when there were cruel, evil wrongdoers around every corner.

  Together, they stepped out of the carriage, though Benedict paused before exiting. “Perhaps it would be best if the two of you were to go alone. Three interrogators may prove too many. I wouldn’t want to fright these poor souls.”

  “Are you sure?” Victoria had never known Benedict to be one to shy away from questioning before.

  “Quite sure.” Benedict smiled. “You will provide the feminine grace and comfort, and Lord Galbury will provide the necessary authority to urge them to talk. I will simply be a third wheel that you do not require. But I will be out here if you do need me.”

  “Very well.” Bemused, Victoria made her way to the front door of the house with Lord Galbury at her side. He stood a good head taller than her, his blue gaze determined. “Allow me to lead with the questions, My Lord. I know what I’m doing.”

  He nodded. “As you prefer.”

  She knocked, and the butler answered a moment later. “Good afternoon, Miss. How may I—oh, Lord Galbury. I didn’t see you there. Do you have some business with His Lordship?”

  “Actually, we were wondering if we might speak with Miss Jennings?” Lord Galbury mustered the ghost of a smile.

  Very good, My Lord. I suppose you think this means you have the upper hand over me. Victoria once again found herself being pushed down on the scale of priority, for the butler had not so much as looked at her again, now he had seen Lord Galbury.

  “Miss Jennings? Of course, My Lord.” The butler dipped into a bow. “Is this in regards to what happened to Lady Helena?”

  “It is,” Lord Galbury replied.

  “Then I will bring her to you at once.” The butler ushered them inside and deposited them in the drawing room. Another grand display of fortune that Victoria simply did not care for, though she still rather liked the aesthetic that Lord Galbury had selected for his drawing room. This one gave an air of gloomy, old money. All drab oil paintings and dimmed colors.

  The pair perched on opposite seats as they waited for Miss Jennings to arrive. It annoyed Victoria to admit it, but having Lord Galbury here did come with its benefits. She could only imagine how long she might have spent on the front step, trying to gain entry, if she had come alone. Indeed, she would not have even known who Miss Jennings was, or the important role she had in their investigation, if it had not been for Lord Galbury.

  This does not mean you can get in the way of our pursuit, however. If you say or do anything to divert my questioning, I will not be pleased. She didn’t say it aloud, for she wanted to maintain the companionable silence for a while longer. It gave her time to watch Lord Galbury, and study him further. He tapped his fingertips on the armrest and looked about the room, but he didn’t look uncomfortable. Merely pensive.

  “Do you know the Haverstocks well?” Victoria broached some conversation, while they waited.

  “In passing,” Lord Galbury replied. “During the season, the majority of those with London homes happen to see each other here and there, at one soirée or another.”

  “How nice that must be.” Victoria dug her fingernails into her palms. “Tell me, do you ever wander outside this world? Do you ever see the lives of those less fortunate?”

  Lord Galbury looked sheepish. “I confess, I have not. When my mother and father still lived, we resided mostly at our residence in Cornwall, leaving the exploits of London to itself. I only came here because…” he stopped abruptly, his voice hitching. “Well, because my home in Cornwall no longer felt like a home without them.”

  Victoria immediately felt guilty for having slighted him, albeit subtly. He’d suffered, and just because his suffering didn’t equate to that of the poor, that didn’t negate his right to pain. Death couldn’t care less if a person had money or status or power… it came for them all the same, and those who remained were left to contend with the loss.

  “You sound as if you cared for them deeply?” Victoria prompted softly.

  He smiled so sadly that it almost broke her heart, though it was made of sterner stuff than that. “They were everything to me, and everything to each other. I have never seen, nor do I think I shall ever see, two people so wholly in love. When my mother passed, I sensed my father would not be long for this world. His life didn’t make sense without her. He told me as much, when she took ill.”

  “I am sorry for your loss.” Victoria folded her hands in her lap. “Tell me, do you and Lady Helena share the same affection? You must be eager to have her returned safely.”

  His brow furrowed. “I am desperate to have her safely returned, but… no, I should not say.”

  “Please, go on,” she urged.

  He hesitated, before continuing. “The relationship that Lady Helena and I share is a complex one. We have known each other since we were children, and our families often shared summers and Christmases together. As for love… I am fond of Lady Helena, and she is fond of me, but it is more of a friendship. I am protective of her, as a brother may be. However, it is not the same as the love my mother and father shared. They were fortunate to have found one another.”

  “Is that enough to wed a person?” Victoria genuinely wanted to know. She had observed the strange courtship rituals of high society with great amusement, for it made little sense to her. Very few married for love. So why marry at all? Marriage, in her mind, should be a union of mutual adoration, not a business transaction. That’s why she had never entertained the idea, for she knew she couldn’t love any man as much as she loved her employ, and they would no doubt ask her to desist if she were to become a wife.

  Lord Galbury shrugged. “It is better than feeling no affection at all. There are many young ladies and gentlemen who enter into marriage, hardly knowing the person they may marry, or knowing them, and hating the idea altogether.”

  “But you are an Earl, are you not? Why not find a young lady you do love and marry her instead?”

  Lord Galbury emitted an exasperated sigh. “That is not how things are done. I’ve been betrothed to Lady Helena since we were children, and it is my duty to keep the promise that my mother and father made to her mother and father.”

  “Forgive me for being brusque, but that’s entirely stupid. How can you be happy in that circumstance? How can Lady Helena? Surely, that misplaced sense of duty is robbing you both of the chance to discover true love?” She chuckled tightly. “If such a thing exists, anyway.”

  “Did your mother and father not love one another?” Lord Galbury jumped on the defensive.

  Victoria shrugged. She had no reason to sugarcoat the truth. “They tolerated one another, and were occasionally affectionate, but I imagine they would’ve been happier with other people. My mother would claim otherwise, but I’m not convinced. You see, my father was like me—he favored his employment above all else.”

  “Then, is that not equally as sad as the idea of marrying someone out of duty?”

  Hmmm… an interesting point.

  “Maybe.” Victoria was about to say more, when the door to the drawing room opened and a mousy older woman,
with graying hair and nervous eyes, entered. She dipped into an awkwardly low curtsy upon seeing Lord Galbury but paid little mind to Victoria.

  As per usual…

  “My Lord, I hear you wanted to speak with me?” Miss Jennings trembled before him, as if he were a mighty king instead of a marginally imposing human being.

  “I did. Please, be seated.” Lord Galbury gestured to the settee opposite, where Victoria sat. Miss Jennings immediately plonked herself down, seeming startled to see Victoria.

  “Oh, goodness. I apologize. I didn’t see you there,” Miss Jennings muttered.